The Wish Fulfilling Jewel
by miaokuancha
Summary: TPM missing scenes. It all began in innocence ...
1. Chapter 1

**The Wish-Fulfilling Jewel**

_Homage and companion piece to Wendynat's beautiful "And the Stars Be Our Witness." (tf.n fanfiction archive) Additional inspiration and literary debt owed to geo3's powerful "Children of Circumstance", where, among other things, I encountered the game of "tumble-sticks", and to Fernwithy's "A Father's Heart" (tf.n fanfiction archive) for the tale of the magic, Dragon-riding boy. _

_The GFFA and its personages, not to mention certain snippets of dialogue, are the creation of the master archetype channeler, George Lucas._

* * *

When was it that she had so taken him into her heart?

Was it when he had asked her if she was …

"… _an angel?" _

"_You're a funny little boy!" _

Was it when the sand storm had blown in, out of nowhere, and he had insisted on sheltering three strangers and a droid in his home?

Or when he had pulled her into his room, to see the one he was building?

Or was it when

"_I can help! I can fix anything!"_

And then

"_There's a big race tomorrow,  on Boonta Eve. You could enter my  pod. It's almost finished..._

_Watto doesn't know I've built it.  You could make him think it's yours,  and you could get him to let me pilot  it for you."_

And

"_The prize  money would more than pay for the  parts they need._

_We __**have**__ to help them, Mom...you __**said**__ that the biggest problem in the  universe is no one helps each other..."_

_**You're... a slave? **_

_**I am a person! My name is Anakin. **_


	2. Chapter 2

The storm departed Mos Espa as abruptly as it had arrived. The Jedi, Padme, Jar Jar, even R2D2, all trooped off together, back to Watto's junk shop. Back to barter and gamble with the strange, winged creature, who owned the things that they needed.

Bound by her disguise to speak as a mere handmaiden, Padme could lift only a brief, pale objection to placing their fates on the shoulders of a child. She was ignored.

Inside the shop, the Jedi did the talking, while the junk-dealer eyed the astromech at his side with covert appraisal. Outside, Padme waited obediently, and listened as best she could while facing the street and holding Jar Jar's hand, lest he run afoul of the locals again. Padme felt sorry for the Gungan. Like herself, he had never been off planet before. And, just like her, he had been, without warning, thrust into the midst of reasonless violence and peril. Mindful of the amphibian's delicate skin, Padme kept them both in the shade of the junk-shop's archway.

Beyond the narrow shadow, Tatooine's suns stood like two great, blazing eyes at zenith, washing everything down to ivory and bone. In the wake of the storm, sand was everywhere. From the distant dunes to the mazelike streets, on rounded rooftops, on arches, awnings and walls, even on the clothing and skins of the few people and beasts of burden to venture out at mid-day, a trillion, trillion diamonds clung, multiplying the suns into a chiliocosm of dazzling light. Padme felt herself being pulled into the dreaming shimmer, and tightly shut her eyes.

"_How will you explain this invasion  to the Senate?" Sabe demanded, from the guise of Queen, while the Pearl of Naboo remained hidden at her side._

" _The Naboo and the Federation will  forge a treaty that will legitimize  our occupation here. I've been assured  it will be ratified by the Senate." _

" _I will not co-operate." Decoy's voice and Queen's heart swore as one._

"_Now, now, your Highness. You are not  going to like what we have in store  for your people. In time, their  suffering will persuade you to see  our point of view."_

Gripping the Gungan's hand more tightly than she meant to, Padme hugged herself with her other arm. It was nearly 40 standard hours since they had fled from Theed. It had been early morning when they rocketed out of the atmosphere, through the beginning of one of those luminous, transparent days that so often rise on Naboo after the Spring rains. But that day had already gone down into night, and another one after it. It was midnight now, on Naboo.

Governor Bibble, and all but three of her Handmaidens, had been left behind. _Are they still alive?_ Padme wondered, and her intestines knotted yet again. Surely the Federation wouldn't dare. And yet, after what they had already dared, what were eight girls and an old man to them? The whole of Naboo meant nothing to them, except beautiful plunder.

Though the kiln-like heat of mid-day rippled everywhere, standing in the shadow of the arch, in the dark behind closed eyes, Padme felt cold. There was no one to hold her but herself. She –Amidala of Naboo, Daughter of the Mountains, Lady of the Lakes – felt like a motherless child. And all the while, _time,_ like the diamond grains of sand, like inky black water, was slipping through her fingers.

The Jedi emerged from Watto's shop. He seemed pleased with the bargain he had struck.

Through the dazzle and the darkness, his wager had reached her ears. _"If we win, you  keep all the winnings, minus the  cost of the parts I need... If we  lose, you keep my ship_."

_Great, bearded gundark of a Jedi_, she thought._ That is __**Naboo's**__ ship!_

And yet, Republic credits were useless on this world, and, save for the clothes that she and her Maidens wore, Naboo's wealth was left on Naboo. They had not enough barter with them for parts _or_ passage. The outrageous gamble truly was their only hope.

_While Naboo lies in the hands of enemies. With possession nine tenths of the law_. Ten tenths, if this planet of Tatooine were any measure. The inhabitants practiced slavery openly here, as if there were no Republic at all.

"_We have to fend for ourselves",_ the boy's mother had said.

Padme meditated again on the woman's words, as she followed the Jedi back through the marketplace. The panic, which had gripped her chest like a vise from the moment that the Neimoidians had barged into the Great Hall, would not let her go. She began to wonder in earnest whether the Senate would indeed send help to Naboo, even with a personal appeal from the planet's Queen.

Walking between the rows of vendors' stalls, Qui-Gon Jinn felt a small disturbance in the Force. He glanced back at the young handmaiden who followed meekly behind him, still gripping the Gungan's outsize hand. The Jedi let his gaze return to the winding alleyway in front of him, a small smile hiding in his beard. A fire had suddenly blazed up in this girl that bid fair to put Tatooine's suns to shame. She was not ready to give up yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Too slowly for Padme's anxious thoughts, and yet too quickly as well, the suns began to throw lengthening shadows through the streets. Back again, behind the slave hovels, she watched the little boy working to ready the strange contraption he would race. Padme knew little about flying, and less about machines, but this confabulation of cables, outboard ramjets and open cockpit looked like something that would crash easily.

And spectacularly.

And fatally.

The boy fiddled and tinkered, his brow knit in concentration, the tip of his tongue just showing at the corner of his mouth. From a safe distance, young friends offered comments and advice. None of them was old enough to think this Anakin anything but invincible, to think this pod race anything but a glorious adventure. They were also agreed that girls were a species likely to be infested with vermin, and so none approached the off-worlder who stood wordlessly by, hugging herself tightly, brown eyes liquid with both hope and dread. At some point during his tinkering, Anakin acquired a cut. The Jedi Master tended him gently. And won a gaze of such worshipful affection that the silent girl's heart twisted in her chest.

After the twin suns set, night fell with a rush; and they were eating yet another meal at the Skywalker's house. This time, Padme made certain that they brought proper food. The single small jewel, surreptitiously produced from its hiding place in the seam of her undertunic, had been too rare, too likely to draw attention. But the Jedi had skillfully broken it, and the marred fragment had allowed them to set the table with a meal of plenty.

Now, Padme stood beside Shmi in the tiny cookspace, cleaning and putting away the plates from their supper.

"Mom! Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom! Look what Master Qui-Gon showed me how to do!" For a moment, all that Padme could see was movement, and light. That was Anakin.

The boy and the Jedi had been playing tumble sticks. Apparently, Anakin had won a good share of the passes. And now, Master Qui-Gon had shown him a new way to juggle the sticks.

Padme looked at the Jedi, as Anakin proudly showed his mother the new trick. Had the Master been testing the boy? Padme was well acquainted with tests that came disguised as a child's game. But what was his purpose? This Qui-Gon Jinn's prowess with the light sword was great, yet his eyes and voice held a compassion that was greater still. Though he had overridden her objection to letting Anakin race, she could not imagine him callously testing the child to divine in advance their chances of winning.

Winning. If the prize money would buy a new hyperdrive, wouldn't it also buy freedom for the boy and his mother?

Padme was sure that it would.

A hyperdrive.

Or freedom for a mother and her son.

But not both. There was not enough prize for both.

"… _have you come to free us?"_

" _No, I'm afraid not..."_

Their mission was to free Naboo.

Not Tatooine.

Not both.

And still, Shmi had given permission, given blessing. Given her only son. _"Ani's right... he was meant to help  you."_

And what were _they_ meant to do? For this boy who dreamed innocently, without limits.

"_I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came  back here and freed all the slaves..." _

"That's enough, now, Ani. It's time for you to get washed up and into bed."

To bathe. On this world where water was more precious than blood. Padme had been preparing herself to remain gritty and grimy until they could return to the ship.

"Aw, Mom –"

"Ani."

"Master Qui-Gon, I can show you how to take a bath on Tatooine." The boy turned to courteously include the other two guests. "Padme, you and Jar Jar can watch, too."

"Anakin!" his mother gasped.

"I'm only gonna take off my _shirt_, Mom."

Shmi shook her head apologetically. "I never know what he's going to think up next." She looked at the Jedi a little apprehensively. "He means no harm."

"None taken, Lady." The tall man turned to ruffle Anakin's hair. "I'll figure it out later, young one. And as for Mr. Binks – " the Jedi glanced at the Gungan beside him, and smiled tolerantly. The exhausted amphibian was already muttering and drifting into sleep, leaning somewhat askew in his chair, his very sizeable two feet propped up on the table's top.

"I imagine he's had enough novelty for one day."

"Okay."

Before she knew what was happening, Anakin had grabbed Padme's hand.

"C'mon."

Amidala of Naboo blushed scarlet, and followed where she was pulled.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin drew back a threadbare curtain, revealing a tiny corner where two of the crooked walls joined. He picked up a well-scoured basin, and ran to the outside door, with Padme still in tow. In spite of herself, her curiosity was piqued.

Drifts of sand still lay against the doorway, and some spilled in when he opened it.

"We're lucky!" he said, scooping a generous portion of the drift into the basin. "We've got fresh sand, tonight. I bet it blew in all the way from the Wastes."

On Tatooine, to be grateful for sand. Padme looked at Anakin, feeling a mixture of puzzlement and wonder. He had to carry the basin with both hands, now. She followed him closely so he wouldn't become anxious. Back in the corner, he pulled the curtain closed and took a rag off its hook on the wall. Small though they both were, the space was barely enough for the two of them.

The lamplight from the room filtered unevenly through the rough-woven curtain, throwing strange shadows. Padme hunkered down in the tiny space, as Anakin shucked his jerkin and squatted to start rubbing a handful of the sand on his arm.

"It doesn't really get you clean, but at least it takes away the stink – I mean, not that _you'd_ ever _stink._" The boy blushed for a moment, as he realized he had spoken from bad to worse, but continued to scrub the sand industriously all over his upper body. Padme watched in tender silence. She understood, now, why he was so dusty, and wondered whether he would use the sand to clean even his hair.

"Would you help me clean my back?"

Her heart awoke with a start._ Do not make me your sister!_ it warned._ What will become of you when we leave_? But the face he turned to her was completely trusting and expectant. She could not refuse.

"Turn around", she said, and braced one arm across his chest. He _was_ small for his age. From shoulder to shoulder he barely filled the span from her palm to the crook of her elbow. Shmi's thinly fleshed frame had already told Padme that mother gave the tusk cat's share of the larder to son, but likely it was still not enough. The boy's skin was warm, and, to her surprise, childishly tender, though how long it could remain so, being washed thus, Padme did not know. She took a handful of the sand into the rag, and began to rub it gingerly on Anakin's back.

"You gotta scrub harder than that", he urged. Padme complied, and the loose grains scattered over her own clothing as well.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

As her hand passed between his shoulder blades, the noontime conversation invaded her thoughts again.

"_All slaves have transmitters placed  inside their bodies somewhere." _

Somewhere inside this very body under her hand. Somewhere.

"_Any attempt to escape..."_

" _...and they blow you up –BOOM!"_

She saw red, saw bits of flesh flying. Her next breath choked in her throat.

Anakin turned to her anxiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Some nothing!" He had brought his voice down to a whisper. "It's making you cry."

"I just got sand in my eye, that's all."

Anakin looked at her with surprising seriousness. "If you want to fool anyone, you better learn to fib better than _that_!" He was still whispering, guarding her secret.

"I suppose you're an expert fibber?"

"I _try_ not to." Shame at believed transgressions was written large on his small face. "But sometimes you _have_ to."

"What kind of times?" she breathed.

"Like when your Mom broke something by accident and is gonna get a licking for it."

Padme's eye fell on a scattering of thread-thin white stripes on the child's hips, just peeking above the drawstring of his trousers.

"Those fibs are blessed in Heaven, Anakin", she whispered. _Though all the angels weep._

"It's past, you know."

"I know."

Padme wiped her face on her now quite sandy sleeve, and gave his back a few more scrubs.

"Good enough?"

"Yeah." He turned around to look at her, gauging her emotions in a way much older than his eight years. "My Mom an' me will be okay. As long as we're together, we always get by."

Padme nodded. She didn't know what faith Anakin might hold to, so only said "May the Force be with you." He grinned in delight. Of course. The boy was already enamored of 'Master Qui-Gon'.

"So you get the idea." He was shooing her out.

"Thank you, Ani. Thank you for teaching me how to wash on Tatooine."

His smile at that was radiant.

Returning to the other side of the curtain, Padme realized that Shmi and the Jedi had been speaking quietly, and privately. After a short while, Anakin emerged from behind the cloth as well.

"There's plenty of clean sand left", he said to her. "I mean … if you want …" His voice trailed off a little at the look his mother was giving him. "I guess you probably only wash with water."

"This is Tatooine, Ani. I will follow the custom of your home."

Shmi smiled at her son, but her voice remained stern.

"Bed for you, now, Ani."

"But Mom, Master Qui-Gon and I were – "

Stepping inside the spare shelter of the curtain, Padme heard the exchange continue.

"_Bed_. I know you're excited about the race, but if you don't sleep now there won't _be_ a race for you."

She began to remove her kirtle. How slight it was, compared to the Robe that she had worn at the ceremony of her Accession. _Was it truly only a single moon's cycle ago?_ The twelve intricate layers, the great, heavy headdress, the brocaded mantle, the twenty-seven Auspicious Marks painted onto her face and hands. and, wrapped and hung about her, the Regalia of Naboo. The Queen, made Manifest.

Padme checked the under-tunic's seam. The remaining bit of jewel was safely concealed within. Just as she was hidden, in the weeds of a serving girl. It was the first riddle she had ever been taught, the riddle of the Inside Out. Of the truth hidden where all could see. _The Queen is servant to her People._

"Go lie down, I'll tuck you in, in a minute-"

Piece by piece, Padme removed the remainders of her clothing, folding and placing each beside her. As each garment came off, detail-by-detail, she generated the Ydkdamtsg in her mind. Root Deity, Spirit Guide. Visioning it was the minimum practice, and the most ancient. Tonight the image would not hold. Instead she saw the interior of the tiny slave hovel. The neatly swept surfaces. The spare furnishings, rescued from others' discards, and mended by skillful hands. The meager utensils, which she and Shmi had so carefully wiped clean and put away. The little box of precious, hoarded herbs, brought out that first, noontime meal, to make palatable the reconstituted rations the Jedi had brought. Padme had felt safe the moment she had stepped inside this dwelling's door.

Outside the curtain, the bedtime negotiations continued. "Can Master Qui-Gon do it?"

The room held a slight pause, waiting for permission, then the Jedi Master's gently spoken answer. "Certainly. Now, listen to your Mother." The boy let out a whoop and his racing footfalls disappeared into his room, leaving the adults in quiet.

In this place of exile and sorrows, where not even one's body was one's own, _in this place, _Shmi had made a refuge, and a home. And this, a slave-woman's hovel, was the shape that the Ydkdamtsg took for Padme tonight.

Invisibly, Padme's spirit knelt and bowed to the woman outside the curtain, to her love, her strength, and her perseverance. _I will be like you, _she vowed. _I will make a safe place for my People. Even if there is no place left but my own flesh and soul. _

With night long fallen, Tatooine's moistureless air had swiftly given up its heat to the infinite sky. Naked now, Padme shivered, as she took a handful of sand from the basin, and began the otherworldly ablution.

… … …

Shmi sat at the all-purpose table in the center of the hovel's main-room. Jar Jar's feet were a little too close for comfort, but with a droid in the house as well, there was not much other space available. Padme found her thus, when she emerged from the sand bath. The older woman's gaze passed through the small doorway to her son's room, and rested on the Jedi sitting at the edge of the child's bed. The clear, deep tones of his voice carried softly into the main-room.

Padme held the basin in front of her. She had swept the spent sand back into it, but wasn't sure what to do with it now. Shmi looked up at her and motioned her to the door.

"Just put it back outside", she said. Anakin's delight at the "fresh" sand, blown in "all the way from the Wastes", was now explained.

Padme sat down beside Shmi. The Jedi's quiet conversation with the boy was ending. The mother pulled her gaze away from the pair, with a barely audible sigh.

"He's raced these things before?" Padme ventured.

Shmi nodded.

"They sound … dangerous."

Shmi looked at her frankly. "They are."

"He's so young."

The Jedi emerged from Anakin's room, the mufti of his farmer's poncho wrapped closely about broad shoulders.

"He lives for it", Shmi said. _Racing as Watto's slave. _Padme's eyes never left the mother's face. "He says, when he's going fast, he feels … almost free."

_Almost free._ Padme forced herself not to look away. She owed this woman so much more than that small courtesy. _Forgive us, _she prayed,_ for our ignorance, and our indifference. And our necessity. _ Water, too salty to drink, traced down her cheeks.

Shmi's face went soft. "You're a good girl, Padme. Anyone can see that." She rose, and kissed the girl on her forehead. "My bed is yours tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Padme awoke with a start, disoriented by the hard pallet beneath her and the closeness of the walls. Then she remembered where she was.

There was a small shape standing by the bed. "Where's my Mom?"

Padme sat up. "Ani? What are you doing out of bed?"

"Where's my Mom?" he asked again.

Padme got up and padded out to the central room, with Anakin close behind her. Jar Jar had, at some point, abandoned the chair, and was now curled up against one wall, breathing loudly. Except for him, and the powered down little astromech, the room was empty.

"She's outside, talking with Master Qui-Gon." Padme had a vague memory of hearing them walk outside, as she was falling asleep. She hadn't really known how tired she was until her head had touched the pillow.

Anakin shifted uneasily beside her.

"Would you like a drink of water", she asked.

"Okay."

Padme tilted the large water jug in the cookspace, testing how much was left. They had filled it to the brim, when they brought the feast, but with so many mouths, a third already was gone. Not sure how soon it would be replenished, she carefully poured the boy half of a small cup, from the little spigot at the jug's base.

"Here you go."

He drank a portion, then offered, "You can have some, too."

Deeply moved, Padme knelt to receive the cup. They finished the slightly bitter water together. As she had seen Shmi do, Padme wiped the lip of the cup and fitted it upside-down into the mouth of the jug, so that the last drops would not be lost.

Anakin still fidgeted uneasily.

"What's wrong, Ani?"

"Nothing."

_Who's the clumsy fibber, now?_

Padme knelt again, and took his hands in hers. They were boneless, still, and smaller than hers. They were also cold. "Talk to me, Ani."

He was silent for a moment, then reached with one hand to touch her cheek, as though she were some strange creature, the like of which he had never seen before. "You're so beautiful."

Padme spoke around the lump in her throat. "So are you, Ani."

"Me?"

"Yes. There is a beautiful light inside of you. Shining forth in glory."

She took his hands, and placed them, one on top of the other, over his heart, supporting his back with her other hand. "Close your eyes," she said, "and see."

He did, and after a moment, his face relaxed. Padme thought she almost _could_ see a light, elusive between the molecules of air. The chill had left his hands.

"When you can see this light in yourself, Ani, then you will be able to see it in others."

Anakin opened his eyes. "Does everyone have it?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I bet the Hutt don't." _Or the Trade Federation._

"They do, Ani, but they've forgotten where they put it. So they suffer. And they spread that suffering to others." _Many others._

"So what can we do?"

"Don't give in to hurting. See your light, and show it forth. See the light in others, help them to see it, and show it forth."

"I don't understand."

"The way that you and your mother are helping us, Ani, that's showing forth your light."

He was quiet again, and she sensed that, still, all was not well. She wondered if he was afraid of the dark, or of being alone.

"Would you like me to stay with you until your Mother comes back?"

"You would do that for me?"

An arrow entered Padme's heart. "Of course I would."

Even in the dark, she could feel the smile breaking over his face. "C'mon" He pulled her to her feet, and headed toward the nook that housed his half-built droid.

"What?!" Padme caught him by the shoulders and stood in his way. "You know that's not what I meant", she said, bringing her face close to his, and putting one finger sternly on the tip of his nose. "Your Mother expects you to be asleep in bed at this hour. You've got a big day tomorrow."

He hung his head. "I know." A yawn snuck up on him, and he looked even more sheepish.

"Come on." She took his hand, and he went willingly with her, back to his cot.

The coverlet that she drew up to his chin was so thin. But they had left the ship that day in the bright of morning, the air already hotly baking, and she had worn no jacket or cloak to give.

"I'm going to be right here, Anakin. Right here."

"Thank you, Padme."

"You're welcome."

Padme bent to touch her forehead to his. "Sleep well, now, Ani." For a moment, their breaths mingled, gracing the air between their faces.

He mumbled something, and turned on his side, eking warmth from the thin cover.

Padme slid off the bed, and sat beside it, leaning her back against the frame. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, this strange, gifted boy would ride a fire-breathing Dragon, to win for them the Wish-Fulfilling Jewel that would speed them to Coruscant. Once there, she must gird herself to do battle in the Senate … against ignorance, and indifference… and the necessities of ten thousand other worlds.

… … …

The stars shone very brightly, as Shmi and Qui-gon walked back to the house. As at the start, the calloused warmth of his hand enclosing hers filled Shmi's entire consciousness. Together, they looked in at Anakin's room, and were surprised to see the young girl curled up asleep on the packed sand floor beside his narrow bunk.

"Don't disturb them", Qui-gon said. He shed his poncho, and laid it over the girl.

_Guard well his sleep, young Queen, _he thought_. Guard well his sleep, _


End file.
